A serious physical injury has a tremendous effect on the psyche. It strips away, gradually, the morale that is within until all that is left is a shell of crumbled confidence, a whisper of the being that existed before. The force of personality that existed prior is now made a drifter, blown in whatever emotional direction that he may fall prey to, until he slowly loses the anchor of his sanity.
But after he recovers, he forgets the travails that shadowed him and basks in the glory of a restored form, never thinking that his good health would be a facade for the next serious injury. But, if he allows his life to be marked only by the injuries and not the enjoyment of his physical vigor, what endeavors could ever be pursued without the fear of pain? Pain is momentary, but joy is eternal; it lasts through the ages, preserved in the mental faculties by the gift – and occasional curse – of memory.
However, in the moment of being injured, particularly that of a long-term injury, a person’s character may be tested. Does he laugh or does he cry? Crying would perhaps be the most sincere show of honesty, but laughter reveals a resilience, affected or otherwise, that dwells in the the gritting of teeth. That same laughter is but a paper airplane thrown up high; it soars for an ephemeral gasp of an instant, then the long, torturous decline back to reality begins. It seems like laughing might be something outward that exhibits an overcoming attitude, but it sure doesn’t feel like it when it happens. The best one may do for himself in situations such as these is to pray, wait, and see.